Cleaners

It was in the early hours of the morning, and frankly, he was exhausted.

Sure, the view of the sloping towers of concrete and steel in the predawn light accompanied by a strong and pleasant breeze was nice, but a nice view hardly beat his exhaustion from several early mornings and late nights.

"Ah, I joined up with 'em cause I thought I'd get more sleep than in the Force, not less..."

"If you seriously thought the Coalition was a place for more available sleep hours, you gravely underestimated the mess that comes with being a Cleaner."

The remark from his colleague made him frown, dull chestnut eyes narrowing as the younger coworker, who was somehow higher ranked than him, approached him with his broom resting over both his shoulders, his arms hooked and dangling over its shaft.

"Least you guys stay away from the fighting. In the ZSF, we put our lives on the line killin' those f—ing monsters for you and your little janitor group."

The coworker laughed, his grey eyes sneering as he replied, "And yet, here you are, down with the janitors. I wonder what that means, don't you?"

The smirk that crossed his face made the older man stand up, nostrils flaring before grabbing the younger male by his uniforms collar.

"Listen here you little punk—"

"And just what is going on here? Andre, stop antagonizing the man; David, stop being a prick and get to cleaning. We're all exhausted, and the sooner we clean the location, the quicker we get to our beds, so suck it up."

The younger man, Andre, just smiled before slowly apologizing, "Sorry, sir, I meant no disrespect, I was just wondering is all..."

David, the older man, sucked in another breath before calming himself down, letting go of Andre's suit and moving to retrieve his broom which he had propped up against the side of the edge of the building's roof. He rubbed at his face with his gloved hands, a sign of his tiredness before he reluctantly followed after the Squad Leader, Louis.

Andre seemed to lazily follow after David, grey eyes lingering on the lightening skyline, at the haze of red and gold that revealed buildings both old and new, dilapidated and half constructed.

The amusement disappeared from within him as he made the realization that he had never not seen the world around him in ruins.

"...Just 'cause we're not at the front doesn't mean we aren't fighting..."

The mumbled complaint was heard only by the wind, and he shook his head, clearing his thoughts before he hurried to rejoin the rest of the cleaning squadron.

—————

"Ugh," David groaned with distaste, "this is disgusting."

"Oh, shut up you big baby," Andre snapped at him, "You've seen more than your fair share of this type of crap!"

"I killed zombies, I didn't haul and collect their f—ing corpses!"

"Just keep cleaning!" snapped Louis, his expression obscured from his filtration mask and goggles, but he was undoubtedly displeased from the tone of his muffled voice.

"Also, this is the CC, not the ZSF; clean language means a clean heart, a clean mind, and a clean body, which leads to a clean life! So I suggest you get cleaning both the world around you and your mouth!"

David rolled his eyes at the ridiculous policies, muttering with colorful language under his breath why the CC even bothered to have such rules. Meanwhile, Andre gave a similar eyeroll at Louis's spiel, mouthing mockingly along with his words before continuing to haul the corpse to the transport line that had been set up prior.

He grunted as he plopped the grayed and skinny corpse that was missing its head into the trailer, going to wipe his sweat from his brow before realizing his gloves were covered in blood and dust.

He tsked at the sight, the sound muffled by his mask, but went to move more of the other corpses regardless.

"Hey, Louis the Leader. Why are we even cleaning this far out of the city? I thought people didn't live here anymore."

Louis gave a long sigh that was smothered by his mask at David's question; he could tell that the ZSF officials had thrown David Allister at the CC due to his clear lack of discipline and respect.

'They really enjoy looking down at us, those slobs,' he thought, his frustration and exhaustion beginning to push at the limits of his patience.

"I'm beginning to wonder who trained you. David Allister, what is your rank?"

David paused his work, his eyes darting downwards in realizing his CO was not happy with him.

The other parts of the squadron—the half lead by Louis, as the other half led by Andre was in charge of loading the corpses—looked up from their work to observe who would receive the 'talk' from Louis, before returning to lining up the corpses for loading on the transport, meanwhile also collecting and clearing the debris for future construction.

"...Private, sir."

Louis continued, "Yes, you are a Private. If you are a Private, then what am I?"

"...My commanding officer, sir."

"Correct," Louis approached the now nervous David, quartz colored eyes narrowed as he stared down at him from under his nose.

"I am your commanding officer. I tell you to clean up zombies, you clean zombies. I tell you to start moving, you hustle. I tell you to jump, the only question you will be asking is how high. Keep that in mind the next time you phrase a question. I don't care who you were before you joined the Cleaners Coalition, how hard you worked or even what rank you were—you're here now, and I am your leader. Now, what was your question again?"

David hesitated for a second, before slowly asking again, "This zone isn't part of our usual clean up areas; I was wondering, if you knew why we are clearing at this particular location, sir."

"I trust you also didn't listen to the mission briefing that was given to us prior to our dispatch then, correct, David?"

David's eyes moved from the ground to his boots, a flush climbing to his ears and leaving him flustered. "I-I'm afraid I've forgotten, sir. It was very early—"

"Yes," Louis remarked dryly, "I was there as well."

He let the silence hang a little before turning to one of the other squadron members.

"Annalise, do you recall why we were dispatched here?"

Annalise quickly straightened, her posture rigid and straight as she steadily replied, "Yes, sir."

"Inform David here, will you? It seems to have slipped our newest recruits mind."

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Watch him, he seems to need supervision as well."

That was all Louis said before he walked away to supervise and assist the transport of the zombie corpses, over which most would be sent to incineration, and a few choice specimens would be shipped for study in the labs.

Annalise's chartreuse green eyes whipped to David's timid posture that quickly became more arrogant and defensive in seeing the smaller woman's gaze.

"What?"

She stared at him a beat longer, before scoffing at his attitude, shaking her head.

"I'm starting to think you really are just an idiot, and not just an arrogant, self-absorbed prick."

"What?!"

"Listen," she said, resting her broom on the ground and leaning on the handle, "this isn't the ZSF. Sure you used to be in Louis's position, but clearly you're not that guy anymore. They kicked you out, we took you in—get that through your thick skull and show some respect. Everyone here is at least one or two ranks higher than you, and none of us want to babysit you. Grow up, and get your head in the game—it's still life and death around here."

David wanted to snap at her, and seeing this, she turned away to clear more debris away, ignoring him. Feeling miffed, but knowing that he needed to follow her since Louis was no doubt watching him now, he hustled after her, his glare prominent before he attempted to calm himself.

He had to admit that what she and Louis said had struck a cord within him; he had been caught up in the mindset of being a Squad Leader in the ZSF, but now, he was a Private in the CC, and he had to act as such.

'Just... just calm down. You need the info—so calm down.'

And slowly, he let his arrogance lessen.

"Do you recall what the briefing was about, ma'am?"

Annalise eyed him, noting the improved attitude before returning to her work.

"The RC is planning to expand the territory more, so we're both making space and gathering material for the reconstruction. Clearing the zombie corpses will be beneficial for us in controlling not only contagion, but also in keeping out some of the strays."

"Strays?"

She eyed him, as if to ask if he was dumb to not know this considering his previous occupation.

"Y'know, strays? The abnormal zombies that eat the corpses of their brethren?"

His face that could be seen behind the face mask looked both confused and disgusted. She exhaled with irritation at how clueless he was before practically snapping, "Just, get back to work. We need to be done by noon."

And with that, they went back to work, moving and clearing corpses and debris, unaware of the danger that lurked amongst their work. It was only discovered when one of the other cleaners, Philip, picked up a corpse—and pulled a wire in the process.

The wire pulled out the pin of a cluster of grenades that had been stuffed into the zombies lacerated abdominal cavity, and after a few seconds of complete obliviousness, a concussive boom rattled the buildings and structures around them, one that to those close enough to the origin, felt a reverberation akin to a slug to the gut, except aimed at their chest and body.

A breathless silence overcame the area where the cleaners laid, some dead, others alive.

And poor Philip was the first to go.